


Crossing Over

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Challenge Response, M/M, Series: Borders, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-01-16
Updated: 2001-01-16
Packaged: 2018-11-10 13:38:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11128017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: Ray tried and thinks he failed.  Now its up to Fraser to let him know he didn't.This story is a sequel toBorders.





	Crossing Over

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

  
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Title: Crossing Over  
  
Disclaimer: They aren't mine. They belong to someone else. But  
that's ok, I get to play with them.  
  
Pairing: Fraser and RayK  
  
Mail:  
  
  
Note: This is the second part to Borders. My wingnut of a muse wanted  
a   
little hurt dumped on Ray, but she's seen the error of her ways and  
we are in   
negotiations. Third part should see it made ALL better. Again, thanks  
to   
Jaydax for the quick beta before she had to go climb a mountain. (Really!)  
  
  
  
  
Ray's gone.  
  
I'd laugh if it didn't hurt so much.  
  
It obviously took him more courage than I possess to tell me. Everyone  
thinks   
I'm a 'hero'. Little do they know that I scoff when I hear those  
words, or any   
similar. A hero faces his fears. When I get shot, knifed or hurt  
in the line   
of duty, I don't feel a hero. I'm not entirely afraid of these things.  
I know   
there is more if my life should end. My faith in that is absolute.  
It's hard   
to have seen the wild untameable beauty that I grew up in and believe

otherwise. How could there not be a God, when the snow covered peaks  
reach all   
the way to heaven, and the forests into eternity. Heaven to me is  
the   
untameable.  
  
I have often thought of Ray in that regard. His passion for everything  
is   
something I must confess I wish I could experience. But my father  
taught me   
well. Duty was his passion, and with what little time I spent with  
him, he saw   
to it that I shared it with him. A father's gift to his son.  
  
I sometimes wonder what my mother would have gifted me with.  
  
Ray is energy and life, while I am routine and dogged determination.  
He is   
that part of me that was lost even while I was a youth. How he managed  
to keep   
hold of it, that vitality as he grew and became a man in Chicago is  
a miracle.   
Another reason for me to believe in a higher power.  
  
* * * * *  
  
I was on my way to see him last night when he caught me outside.   
Funny that.   
We work together and yet we are still able to maintain a friendship  
outside the   
confines of work.  
  
Yet he caught me unawares last night. For me, love has always brought  
me pain.   
Its part of my conditioning, my emotional make up. First my mother's  
death.   
The real first lesson I was ever taught.  
  
I reacted to it. I hurt and I felt and I wasn't ashamed to let others  
see   
that. I remember to this day crying at her funeral. I hadn't wanted  
to go,   
for on some level I knew that it was goodbye. But my father made  
me.  
  
I stood at the front of the small church and wept, and I foolishly  
thought that   
my father would offer me some comfort. Instead he told me that I  
had better   
get used to it. That death was a part of the way of life where we  
lived. And   
that a man didn't cry.  
  
My very first real lesson in pain.  
  
There where others of course. By the time I met Victoria I was sure  
I was   
never meant to feel things like love and companion ship. When I found  
her, I   
didn't know what love really was, which is why I reacted so badly  
when she came   
back to Chicago. I craved that emotional stimulation that others  
had everyday   
of their lives, that I nearly destroyed myself to get it.  
  
When Ray left me, when Ray Vecchio left me, it hadn't hurt as much  
as others   
assumed it must have. I just took the pain and buried it deep, where  
I would   
never have to look at it.  
  
Then Ray. My Ray. Stanley Raymond Kowalski. I think I recognised  
something   
of myself in Ray. The pain. However, where I hide it in the dark,  
and pretend   
its not really there, Ray exposes his to the light, allowing it to  
shrivel up   
and die. That's why I'm not a hero. I'm afraid of that kind of light,  
that   
kind of exposure. He wasn't afraid to show it, he dealt with it,  
while I hide   
it like something to be ashamed of.  
  
He showed me that when he cried, the pain of having, unintentionally  
or   
otherwise, destroyed a woman's life. I tried to tell him he had saved  
her,   
that it was others who had caused her her pain. But he couldn't accept  
that.   
Still, he had showed me, even when all the comfort I could offer was  
a   
tentative hand on his shoulder. I didn't feel I could cross that  
line, that to   
cross over that, that border, from the darkness into the light would  
mean   
consequences I wasn't and believed could never face.  
  
Yet tonight I must come to a decision. I have never really considered  
myself   
heterosexual as such. To me, love is love no matter what the package  
it comes   
wrapped up in.  
  
Ray's proclamation of love scared me. To accept would mean to accept  
the light.   
To believe that I deserved some of it. But what if I don't? What  
if I am   
destined to be alone? That to accept another into my life would drag  
them into   
the darkness that no one else even suspects exists inside me. No  
one that is,   
apart from Ray. He seems to be able to see me more clearly than anyone  
I ever   
knew.  
  
And the fact that he is willing to love me despite the fact of who  
I am shows   
me his courage and highlights my own lack of it. If I hadn't of seen  
the pain   
in his eyes when he saw my own reaction to his words then I wouldn't  
even be   
contemplating telling him that I do love him.  
  
If Ray can display that kind of courage so clearly that I am going  
to try also.   
You see, I've grown tired of this darkness. I've seen how the light

invigorates Ray and I want that. Ray promises that with every look,  
even every   
angry comment he makes.  
  
I should have told him. I know that. I've hurt him and I feel like  
dying   
because of it. But he was asking me to cross over and I wasn't prepared.  
I   
almost laugh at that. Proper Preparation Prevents Poor Performance.  
  
Well, I'm prepared now. I've sent Dief back into the Consulate.   
He whined a   
little about that, but I think he could see that something was coming.  
  
Its 3 am and I've been thinking about him since he left me on my side  
of the   
border. I know it's late as I walk across the city, but with every  
step I feel   
myself hope that this darkness is finally coming to an end for me.  
It should   
feel selfish but it doesn't, and I take that as a good sign. Ray  
can save me,   
if I let him. I just have to have the courage to let myself feel  
that I   
deserve that part of his soul that I know he's already given to me.  
  
If Ray can cross that line, the one that we should have crossed together  
but   
for my own cowardice then I surely owe it to both him and myself to  
follow.   
It's what partners do. Its what people in love do everyday. And  
I do love   
him. He and I both need to hear me say it.  
  
  



End file.
